


35. morning regrets

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [125]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: “Sarah!” Helena says, perking up the second Sarah walks in. “I made breakfast.”
“You sure did,” Sarah says slowly, wincing as her every step crunches with eggshells. “You made – pancakes?” The last word rises a little bit on the last syllable; she’s still not sure.





	

“Oh, god,” Sarah says when she steps into the massacre in the kitchen. Metaphorical massacre, thank god; considering Helena, it could have been either.

But no. It’s just – eggs, and flour, and a spill of milk on the floor, and some shit on the _ceiling_ that is dripping down in disgusting-sounding little glops. In the middle of it: Helena, sitting at a kitchen table and eating what appears to be a pancake. Or at least something like a pancake. Something that might dream of being a pancake, someday.

“Sarah!” Helena says, perking up the second Sarah walks in. “I made breakfast.”

“You sure did,” Sarah says slowly, wincing as her every step crunches with eggshells. “You made – pancakes?” The last word rises a little bit on the last syllable; she’s still not sure.

“Yes,” Helena says. “With much syrup of trees and whipped cream. Very good. Nice crunch.” She takes another bite, and sure enough it crunches between her teeth. Presumably more eggshells.

“I made enough for you,” she says, “also. Here.” She pushes another plate over to Sarah. She has optimistically drawn a smiley face on the top pancake with whipped cream. It gives Sarah a very sincere and lopsided smile as she stares at it. Oh, god. The amount of love put into this is visible from here. Also visible: the eggshells. She isn’t entirely sure the pancakes are _cooked_.

“Wow, thank you!” Sarah says, putting on a _yeah Kira that drawing is amazing it looks just like me!_ voice she somehow managed to get good at through her years of almost-parenting. She swallows. “Looks _great_.”

“It is smiling,” Helena says helpfully. She points to the whipped cream. “See. It has eyes, and a mouth.”

“Yeah, see that,” Sarah says, still straining for enthusiasm. “I’m gonna get some milk. You want some?”

“No thank you,” Helena says. “The pancakes are very wet. They don’t need milk.” She beams, delighted. Eats more pancake. After some chewing and consideration, she picks up the whipped cream and squirts half the canister onto her plate before continuing to eat her pancakes.

Sarah pours herself the biggest glass she can manage and sits down. Alright. It’s fine. She can do this. The pancakes are still grinning at her; it’s her imagination, probably, that makes them look menacing. She doesn’t think Helena, when drawing a smiley face on pancakes with whipped cream, would attempt to make them smirk at her like that. Helena is not really that good with nuance.

She cuts off a small piece and takes a bite. _Oh_ god. She chugs some milk and swallows it all down and – Helena is watching her, eyes huge and hopeful. The _right_ thing to do would probably be to tell Helena that she could do with cooking the batter more, or breaking the eggs better into the bowl, or maybe just going to iHOP. But Sarah has never really been that good at doing the right thing, especially when there’s an easier option.

“Oh, these are _good_ ,” she says. “You’re right, the crunch is – great.”

Helena beams at her, huge and happy. She wriggles a little bit in her chair. “Thank you,” she says. “I like the crunch also! More pancakes should be crunchy. I will tell them.”

Who they are is uncertain, but Sarah doesn’t question it. She can take another bite. She is definitely going to take another bite. She drinks more milk instead, and tells herself she’s going to bite into the pancake, and lies to herself.

“Hey,” she says. “Can you, uh, pass the syrup?”

“Sorry,” Helena says sadly. “It is all gone now.” She looks very sorry about this fact; about as sorry, in fact, as Sarah feels. No syrup. Just her and that rapidly-drooping whipped cream smile.

“It’s okay,” she says, letting a smile tug up the corner of her mouth. “Good without it.”

Helena’s mouth splits open all the way, so she’s grinning with all her teeth. Sarah smiles back at her. She sucks in a breath through her nose, and takes another bite.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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